


Linked

by Omicheese



Series: Tenipuri AU project [1]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Gen, M/M, Superpowers, Warring states period, all of Hyotei will turn up eventually, other schools will get cameos too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omicheese/pseuds/Omicheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In mid-1500s Japan, Power is everything.  Empowered people not only have a supernatural advantage over the Powerless, but, at least in the Hyotei army, they are also given preferential treatment.  Shishido Ryou, the strongest Powerless captain Hyotei has to offer, is thus bitterly stuck in a dead-end job.  Or so he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning--this isn't finished yet! The AU should explain itself as it goes.

They were making him work with a _kid_.

Sure, he was a lot taller than Shishido was, but he still looked like a kid. Probably a good deal younger than he was. And _this_ guy was an officer? He was Empowered, sure, and Shishido had heard rumors that he was decent enough in a fight, but was that really all a person needed to get promoted up so high? After all, even _Gakuto_ was an officer now and Shishido could kick _his_ ass six ways from Sunday--maybe that’s all it really did take. Power. Life was so fucking unfair.

Besides, Shishido was _not_ a team guy. He could more than handle this kind of assignment by himself--and the General _knew_ it--so what were they doing dragging him down with some officer who looked too young to even have held a real sword before? Did they want him to train the kid or something? So this would be a waste of time, to boot.

The kid (who cares if he’s his superior--he’s still a kid, and Shishido should be allowed to call him a kid!) was smiling at him, though. Seemed like a pretty honest smile, too, not like those jerkass smiles Gakuto would throw his way every once in a while. “I hope you think well of me,” the kid offered, smiling even wider. He even looked a little shy. That was weird. All of the officers Shishido knew were pigheaded snobs that didn’t give a fuck for the common soldier. He’d heard a few of them had died recently--maybe that was why they’d brought this kid on. Maybe the mentality hadn’t set in yet.

“Yeah, same here,” he replied, shrugging. The kid was an officer, so Shishido had to be polite. It was just one assignment, right? And it wasn’t like he necessarily _hated_ tag-teaming. So it was no skin off his nose, and maybe it wouldn’t suck as bad as he’d expected it to. _Maybe._ There was still time to change his mind if the kid turned out annoying.

_“Wow, his hair is really pretty!”_

Wait, _what?_ Shishido snapped back to look at the kid again. _That_ was _really_ weird. Did the kid talk to himself or something? And what was he doing checking out Shishido’s hair? Ignoring that it was a compliment, and Shishido liked compliments. _Especially_ compliments about his hair. Superior officer _that was his junior_ shouldn’t be throwing around compliments. But the kid looked surprised. “Umm, what?” He blinked a few times. The innocent look was almost too much.

“Did you just say…” he started, but the kid just looked even more confused. Had he said anything, after all? Was Shishido just going crazy? Oh no, was this happening _again?_ No--of course not, that was stupid. Shishido shouldn’t even be thinking about that. Hadn’t he decided that he was never going to think about that? He _wasn’t_ crazy. “Er, nevermind,” he finished lamely, waving a hand and turning away. One assignment. He could handle one assignment.

*

“Tch, don’t these Kakinoki guys ever _learn_?” Shishido griped, cleaning off his sword with only a _little_ more force than was necessary.

“They attack quite often, don’t they?” the kid smiled, an understatement if Shishido had ever heard one. He turned out able to keep up well enough after all. At least Shishido didn’t have to do all the work for once, anyway. Never did use his Power, though. He might have actually outpaced Shishido if he’d used it, depending on what it was. Maybe the kid didn’t think this assignment was worth it. Or, the thought came unexpectedly, maybe the kid was trying not to make Shishido feel bad about not having one. But courtesy didn’t belong in the army, so that probably wasn’t it.

It was easy enough to shrug off, though. “Yeah, and what the hell is up with those stupid tongue-twisters?” That made the kid laugh, and Shishido felt a little proud of himself. It was a good laugh, not one of those forced, polite ones people made when nothing was really that funny. They walked back to the base like that. It was a lot easier than Shishido had expected.

“I liked working with you,” the kid said before they went their separate directions. He actually said it. Shishido saw him do it.

“Me too.” He replied without even thinking about it first.

Maybe he was a _little_ crazy.

*

He was totally listening to what Gakuto was saying. Of course. After all, it wasn’t like they got to have lunch together very often these days. Gakuto was always busy now, off being an _officer_ , Shishido supposed. They used to do this all the time--sit together, eat, and complain about everything. Wasn’t that what friends were for? But apparently they weren’t that close anymore. Anyway, it sounded like Gakuto had been saving up all his complaints since the last time they’d hung out, and there was no way Shishido could be expected to pay attention to _all_ of it. It was hard enough to listen to Gakuto bitch on a normal day. He could almost _feel_ his mind wander, despite his best efforts.

_“Oh, it’s that guy with the pretty hair again!”_

Shishido whipped around in his seat, looking for the source of the comment, and his eyes met the kid he’d worked with last week. He was way in the back of the hall. How had Shishido heard him from here? Did he even actually say anything? The kid looked surprised that Shishido had noticed him, but beamed at him all the same.

He hadn’t noticed he was grinning back until Gakuto pointed it out. “What are _you_ smiling at?” he accused, squirming around to see what the big deal was. “Oh, hey, it’s Ohtori! Hi!” He waved energetically. For some reason, it really pissed Shishido off. He’d almost forgotten, sitting here eating lunch with him, that Gakuto was an officer, too.

The kid gave Gakuto a new smile and waved back politely before heading on his way. It was kind of a pity he left--Shishido wouldn’t have minded talking to him. But the kid was an _officer_ , after all. He probably had better things to do.

“How’d you know he was there, anyway? You weren’t even looking,” Gakuto nagged, sitting back down like normal people were supposed to.

“Heard him say something,” Shishido shrugged, hoping Gakuto would drop it. He had _thought_ he heard something, anyway. And then the kid was there. It worked out either way, right?

“Huh. I didn’t hear him. Ohtori never really talks out much. Quiet kid, you know?” Gakuto made a face, as though being quiet was something entirely foreign. Well, for _him_ it would be. Gakuto had never heard the meaning of the word ‘subtle.’

Shishido shrugged again and went back to his rice. “Huh. Wouldn’t know.” Time to return to normalcy.

“Of course, if you _were_ telepathic, you could’ve found him easy whether he was loud or not,” Gakuto went on with a know-it-all sneer on his face, pointing at him with his chopsticks to emphasize his point.

“Not _this_ again!” Shishido could feel a headache coming on. They argued over this _ages_ ago; he’d thought it was _done_ with. Didn’t Gakuto know when to give up on his stupid little ideas? Just because _he_ was Empowered didn’t mean _everybody_ was. The difference pissed Shishido off enough already--Gakuto didn’t have to go rubbing it in. “Seriously, Gakuto, that’s _dumb_.”

“Hey, it would make sense!” Gakuto protested around a mouthful of rice. “I swear you read my mind once!”

“I am _not_ listening to this,” Shishido groaned, pinching his forehead in one hand. Would Gakuto just cut it the hell out already? Shishido could _feel_ his rationality disintegrate just by entertaining the thought. No _way_ was he about to go for all this superstitious bullshit.

Gakuto gave him a _look_ , like he wasn’t about to give up any time soon, but rolled his eyes and complained, “Well, fine, have it your way. I feel like being nice.” Right, Gakuto being _nice_. And he went back to whining about his new boyfriend or whatever, like they’d been talking about earlier. Well, _he’d_ been talking about, at any rate.

Shishido just tried to shake the thoughts out of his head and move on.

~


	2. Chapter 2

The last time Shishido seriously worried that he might be crazy was maybe three years ago. It lasted about a week before he forgot about it and stopped worrying. Sure, Gakuto never let him live it down, but Shishido figured that was to be expected from being friends with the biggest bitch in the army. All in all, it had never really come back to bother him.

That was last time. This was this time.

Shishido really had hoped there would never _be_ a ‘this time.’ It was bad enough that there was even a _last_ time. And the worst part was, it seemed to be getting worse the more he thought about it. At least, it wasn’t just going away like before. And mishearing people like that twice in so many weeks was not a good sign. Getting confused like that once was one thing--after that it starts getting creepy. He did _not_ want to know what the top brass would do to him if they thought he was crazy.

They’d given him another team assignment. He _wasn’t_ a team guy already! Did the General forget that Shishido had a real job leading a division, or were the officers just that hard up for double team guys? He’d figured, what with Gakuto and that putz blue-haired boy toy of his on the force now, they ought to have more than enough people to work with. Not that Gakuto was half as good a fighter as Shishido was, but why bother promoting him if they’re not going to do anything with him? Whatever. It wasn’t like he had any say where he was assigned. As good as Shishido was--and he was _good_ \--they never consulted him on anything. Fucking dead-end captain job.

The kid was there again, smiling at him like before. Shishido hadn’t expected to see him. They usually mixed up the tag-teams, except for official ones, anyway. It taught people to be more flexible. Especially with a kid this green, Shishido had figured they’d team him up with everybody available. And yet here he was again. “Hello,” the kid greeted him when Shishido got closer. “It looks like we’ll be working together again today. I hope you think well of me,” he added, sheepishly.

As much as Shishido wanted to stay self-righteously pissed off, seeing the kid did make him feel a little better. He couldn’t really explain it. Maybe it was that fresh-faced innocent look, like he had no idea how unfair the world was yet, and Shishido just didn’t have the heart to burst his bubble. Either way, Shishido found himself almost smiling back. _Weird._ “Funny coincidence, this, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve worked with the same person twice before.”

“Oh!” The kid was still smiling, but suddenly he wasn’t looking Shishido in the eye anymore. “Yeah, I guess so.” He very obviously wasn’t talking, his mouth wasn’t moving, but Shishido could hear, _“I hope he doesn’t figure out that I asked to work with him again, that would be really awkward.”_ He heard it just as though the kid was saying it.

Yeah, he was _definitely_ going insane. This was not good.

The kid suddenly made a squeaky noise, and put a hand in front of his face like he could hide the shock on it that way. “I—I never remembered to introduce myself!”

The tension completely broken, Shishido started laughing. He couldn’t help it. Something about the kid’s face was just so--funny? That didn’t seem like quite the right word, but it would work.

Luckily, the kid was laughing too, although his cheeks were pink. “I’m Ohtori Choutarou,” he offered bashfully, tugging at the beads he was wearing around his neck. He didn’t even mention his rank. Officers _always_ added their rank to their introduction in Shishido’s experience, the better to lord it over the rest. Hell, _everyone_ in Hyotei made a point of mentioning their rank--there was always at least _somebody_ who’d be impressed, even if it was just the local whores. Being in the army made you a big man. It was like the kid didn’t even care.

In the face of that, Shishido would sound like a dick if he didn’t respond in kind. “Shishido Ryou,” he replied. He wasn’t used to the sound of his name without the ‘Captain’ in front. Shorter, but kind of lighter, freer.

“I guess ‘nice to meet you’ wouldn’t really work, would it?” Ohtori suggested, beaming at Shishido again. “Considering we’ve met a couple times already.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” What was Shishido doing, smiling so much? “So, what’s the job?”

*

_Reconnaissance_ , he’d said. _No likely danger._ Just go in, look around, and bring back enough information to make things easy when they formally engaged the Gyokurin army later. _Caution is necessary, but there should be no problems._

Shishido was going to _kill_ General Atobe when they came home from this.

Not that Shishido was having any trouble--he could handle an ambush--but how the fuck was he supposed to have expected an ambush? Taking advantage of the element of surprise, they Gyokurins had split them up: the one with the stupid hair fighting Ohtori, Shishido stuck dealing with the one with the ponytail. As far as Shishido was concerned, it was almost boring--the guy obviously had no idea how to fight by himself, always looking over his shoulder for his partner--but Ohtori was completely out of sight. It would be so not cool if the kid got killed on Shishido’s watch.

Normally he might have played with his food, but Shishido didn’t have the time to waste. When his opponent was stupid enough to look away from Shishido to say something to his friend, “Izumi, these guys suck! They can’t even fight _together_!” Shishido took his opportunity and made a straight jab into the Gyokurin’s face. The point would have come out the other side of the guy’s eye socket if his partner hadn’t turned up just in time to deflect it.

He had both of their attentions now. This was good. In fact, it might even be interesting, for at least fifteen minutes or so. They made a couple hand signals at each other and tried to come at him from either side, but he dodged easily. It was all so _obvious_. Even two on one was almost boring. He dodged everything they threw at him. He could keep them running, and he knew he was faster. Almost a close call there--one of them winged his sleeve, but he only laughed. He was ok. He was more than ok. This was what he was _made_ for, the thrill of the fight, the air burning in his lungs, the adrenaline hammering in his ears. Keep attacking. Keep them moving. Show them how weak they are. Never let them land a blow. Wait for it—

“Shishido-san, DUCK!”

An enormous, burning ball of light, blasting the Gyokurin pair backward like leaves in a typhoon, nearly hit Shishido in the back of the head. He only ducked _just_ in time. He could _feel_ the heat from it, even though it whizzed by almost too fast to look at it. What the hell was _that?_

“Shishido-san!” Ohtori shouted, sounding panicked, and Shishido could hear him muttering, _“OhnoIkilledhimIkilledhimIkilledhimI’msostupid!”_ The kid ran over as fast as he could to help steady Shishido on his feet. His face was white as a sheet. “Are you ok?” he asked frantically, pulling on those beads of his once he seemed sure Shishido was uninjured. “I am _so_ sorry, my aim is _terrible_ , I had no idea you were so close to them or I wouldn’t have—"

“I’m _fine_ ,” Shishido barked, irritated. The kid didn’t have to fuss over him like that! What was he, Shishido’s _mom_ or something? Besides, it was for the older people to look after the younger ones, rank be hanged! Shishido shrugged him away, dusting himself off. He added, a little more petulantly than he’d planned, “I _had_ them, you know.”

“I know,” Ohtori apologized again, worrying those beads like he might strangle himself. “I just, I _panicked_ , they were both attacking you at once and I—"

“Just leave it,” Shishido snapped, not making eye contact. His ego was bruised enough without seeing the kid making puppy-dog eyes at him.

“I’m sorry,” the kid said again, in a quieter voice.

“Whatever.” Listening to Ohtori apologize just made it worse. It would be better to change the subject. “What was that, anyway? That big, burning, light...thing.” Yeah, real eloquent there. 

“Oh.” The white in his face had faded away, and now Ohtori’s cheeks were turning a pink instead. “That was my Power,” he answered apologetically, biting his lower lip and continuing to fiddle with his beads, “but I’m really _bad_ at it. I told you my aim was terrible. So I don’t use it very much.” He wouldn’t look up from his feet.

Now _that_ was interesting. Shishido had never thought about it--being bad at a Power one was born with? Although, the only Empowered person he really knew was Gakuto, and his wasn’t really something a person could be ‘bad at.’ Gakuto’s Power was more of a trait than an ability. All he needed to worry about was getting caught in an especially strong breeze. It had never occurred to Shishido that Power could require _practice_. Not so godly after all.

“That’s pretty cool,” he commented in spite of himself. As bitter as Shishido was, he could give credit where credit was due. How else could he put up with taking orders from Atobe?

“But it _isn’t!_ ” Ohtori insisted, surprisingly determined to deprecate himself. “I nearly fried you!”

“Did not,” Shishido countered, side-stepping the fact that yeah, he kind of did. Anyway, Shishido could totally have dodged if he’d had more warning. He was elite, not like those Gyokurin losers. “Anyway, it sounds like all you need to do is work on it. Aim is a skill, not a talent.”

“I guess, but—"

“Come on, let’s get back,” Shishido interrupted, not wanting to waste much more time on Ohtori’s self-esteem issues. “I’ve got a complaint to the General I want to make.” _No likely danger_ his ass.

Ohtori started to smile again. “He’s not going to be very happy about that. General Atobe doesn’t like being corrected.”

“Then it’s his fault for giving us such bullshit instructions!”

Ohtori laughed and followed.

~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes discussion of period-appropriate suicide. Just warning beforehand.

Shishido ran into Ohtori every once in a while after that. Not often, just across hallways or in courtyards while Shishido was busy with something else. Ohtori always smiled real big and waved, and Shishido would wave, and if he didn’t have anywhere to be in a hurry he’d stop and chat for a bit. It was kind of nice, having a familiar face to see, or at least a familiar face that didn’t piss him off.

Because the kid _didn’t_ piss him off. That was probably unique. Even people Shishido liked, he couldn’t stand--but not this kid. What the hell a nice little boy like this was doing in the army, Shishido would probably never know. He was nowhere near self-centered enough to belong here. But it wasn’t Shishido’s business to ask, and anyway, it probably didn’t matter. Shishido had bigger things to worry about.

Gyokurin had been taken easily, no small thanks to Shishido’s efforts with Ohtori the other day, and that brought Hyotei into new prominence. Not that anyone had ever underestimated Hyotei before, not with Atobe in charge, but conquering Gyokurin certainly didn’t win them any allies in the region. Training was a lot more serious now, and they’d commissioned a new officer, bringing the number up to nine. Once again, Shishido was passed over, this time in favor of that dipshit Miura, former captain of sixth and former student of Shishido’s, who could light himself on fire. A lot of good that would do the man, considering he couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, but apparently the top brass wanted him. Shishido could hardly even muster surprise anymore. He was _beyond_ sick of these people. At least they paid him.

The threat of insanity hadn’t gone away, either. It didn’t happen much, but it was distracting as hell whenever it did, usually kicking in when he finally got a quiet moment to himself or when he was trying to have a conversation. Hearing voices was not good, even if what they were saying wasn’t what he’d call harmful. Most often it was weird compliments on how Shishido looked, or else complete non-sequiturs like, _“Did I remember to bring in the laundry today?”_ Shishido did his best to ignore it all and go about his business.

It had been a few weeks, and Shishido had to be somewhere. General Atobe needed to talk to him about something, and that was _bound_ to be a headache. Shishido had for a long time felt that he and General Atobe had a mutual understanding: each man could respect the other’s considerable skill and talent, but on a personal level they couldn’t stand each other. Shishido was frankly surprised _anybody_ could stand Atobe on a personal level. The man was completely insufferable, not to mention he never shut up. Still, Atobe was usually the one who gave Shishido anything interesting to do. Shishido got the impression that if the General alone were in charge of commissioning officers, Shishido might have gotten that promotion by now, Empowered or no.

So Shishido was on his way down a mostly empty hallway, minding his own business, when he heard it. _“Wait, they want Shishido-san to go handle the... But isn’t that really dangerous? He... commissioned! I’d heard...”_

Isn’t _what_ dangerous? The voice sounded really muffled, as though coming from a long distance or talking through a pillow. Also, it sounded like Ohtori’s voice this time, although that didn’t feel so weird as it ought to, come to think of it. Normally, Shishido would try to put it out of mind, like he did everything else his feverish brain made him hear, but wasn’t _what_ really dangerous?

If Shishido had been paying attention, he’d have noticed that there was someone stretched out asleep across the corridor. In his state of distraction, however, he didn’t notice until he’d tripped across the someone’s knees and crashed face-first into the floor.

“Hrrnngg, where am I?” the someone gurgled, then, “Oh crap, are you ok?”

“I’m _fine_!” Shishido snapped irritably, wanting to curse at the man for falling asleep in the middle of the floor and knowing full well that Shishido himself should have been watching where he was going. He deliberately shrugged off the man’s efforts to help Shishido to his feet and wheeled around to glare at a tousle-haired loser about his age or younger.

“That’s good,” the guy grinned, rumpling up his already messy hair. “Sorry about that, this happens to me all the time.” He wasn’t speaking formally, which gave Shishido the unpleasant suspicion that he probably didn’t have to. Did this yutz outrank him? Just what Shishido needed, to get in trouble for tripping over somebody who shouldn’t even have been there. “Oh,” the guy added, “I’m Akutagawa Jirou, third officer.”

_That_ explained everything. Shishido had heard enough from Gakuto to know about this guy. Akutagawa Jirou, who didn’t have enough discipline to fill a teaspoon. Akutagawa Jirou, who slept through every officers meeting. Akutagawa Jirou, who was so lazy they sometimes had to carry him from room to room. Akutagawa Jirou, who had to be sleeping with _somebody_ important or else he could never have gotten his job. Akutagawa Jirou, who even _still_ outranked Shishido. Shishido grit his teeth and replied, bowing, “Shishido Ryou, captain of ninth, sir.”

Akutagawa seemed to perk up at that. “Shishido? Like Gakuto’s Shishido? Gakuto’s my best friend! I’ve heard of you!”

Shishido hadn’t expected a friendly response from an officer, nor had it ever occurred to him that Gakuto would have outside friends. After all, Shishido didn’t have any. The double weirdness of it made him look up, bewildered. “Really?”

Akutagawa laughed. “Yeah! You know Gakuto, he tells everybody everything about everybody. And don’t worry,” he added, a knowing grin on his face, “I won’t hold any of it against you.”

“Er, thanks?” Friendliness made Shishido uncomfortable. People weren’t just nice for no good reason. Ohtori was the weird exception, but at least he had the decency to be shy about it. From Akutagawa’s attitude, though, it was as though he and Shishido were best friends already, and all Shishido had done was trip over him. Not to mention, judging from what he’d heard of Akutagawa, Gakuto couldn’t have told the guy anything good about Shishido. Sane people who knew Shishido’s reputation left him alone, and good riddance.

“No problem! So, where you headed?” Akutagawa went on conversationally, following Shishido down the hall. “You can call me Jirou, by the way. Everybody does.”

“Er, I have to see General Atobe about something...”

“Oh cool! I have to go that way, too!” Akutagawa answered cheerfully, successfully quashing any hope Shishido had of ditching him. “I think I accidentally slept through another meeting, so I have to go get caught up. I sleep a lot,” he added unnecessarily, an apologetic grin on his face.

“I think I got that impression,” Shishido replied, not really bothering to hide his tone, but Akutagawa laughed.

“Yeah. I can’t really help it, I just, out I go.” He shrugged lightly. “Pretty inconvenient, but you get used to it. Hey,” he changed the subject, looking suddenly a lot more serious, “Atobe trusts you a lot, right?”

That was news to Shishido, if it was true. “Does he?”

“He does,” Akutagawa answered his own question, giving Shishido a puzzled look. “He relies on you a lot more often than he does any of the other non-commissioned officers. So if he’s getting you to do it, that means it must be more serious than we thought it was.”

“ _What_ is?” Shishido snapped, annoyed that everyone seemed to know more than he did. It made sense, given that they were officers, but _still_.

“Atobe’ll tell you,” Akutagawa assured him, smiling. “And here we are! You first, you have an appointment,” he offered, sliding open the door and ushering Shishido into the room. “Atobe! Shishido here to see you!”

“Come in,” the General called from the other end of the hall.

*

“Shishido, I’ve been expecting you,” General Atobe greeted pompously, remaining seated. “Jirou, wait there. I need to talk to you later.”

Akutagawa grinned and waved, sliding the door shut and leaving Shishido and the General alone to talk. Well, mostly alone, but Atobe’s hulking manservant, currently sitting in the corner making tea, didn’t really count. Shishido doubted he could even speak Japanese. Shishido had never once heard him talk, anyway.

“So,” Atobe began, taking his time and wasting Shishido’s. The General never changed.

“...So what?”

General Atobe scowled and took a sip of tea, as though to get the unpleasant taste of Shishido’s insubordination out of his mouth. It was a point of pride for Shishido to try to make Atobe as uncomfortable as Atobe made him. It made their meetings almost worth it. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard,” he continued, “but Hyotei is currently experiencing a problem.”

“Which is what, sir?” Would it kill Atobe to get straight to the damn point every once in a while? Shishido would follow the man’s orders off the edge of the earth, but the General didn’t have to be such a pain about it.

Atobe’s scowl deepened, but he went on. “I believe you are familiar with the Fudoumine bandits.”

The Fudoumine bandits were a bunch of shiftless, lowlife thugs who scattered at the first show of authority, if Shishido remembered correctly. Shishido had been in command of the squad that had taken care of them, sending the lot back up the mountain with their tails between their legs. “Didn’t we route them a few years back?”

“Correct,” Atobe replied, but obviously that wasn’t everything. “It seems, however, that they have come under new management, and are once again making nuisances of themselves.”

“And you want me to go take them out again.” It sounded simple enough. There had to be a catch somewhere.

“Ordinarily, we wouldn’t need to send you,” Atobe added, throwing Shishido a look that he couldn’t quite read. “Bandits are hardly dangerous under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, their new leader is of a higher caliber, an Empowered man by the name of Tachibana Kippei. He has organized the rats, made them into something more formidable. By this point it is almost impossible to take the north road without being stripped of all worldly possessions. Attempts thus far to intimidate them have been...unsuccessful.” Atobe’s eyes narrowed at the thought, and Shishido wondered how many schmucks had slit their bellies over _that_ one. “Nor has there been any luck with peaceful negotiations,” Atobe continued briskly. “The wretches are determined to remain unaffiliated with any of the regional powers, though why they should, I shall never understand. They refuse to cooperate with us voluntarily. I even offered to marry Tachibana’s sister in the way of an alliance--which was a _charity,_ she’s well past marrying age and never going to see a better offer--but I was turned down. The girl actually wrote to me _herself_ ,” he scathed, pulling a piece of paper from his sleeve and glaring icily at it, “rejecting me directly.” It wasn’t clear whether Atobe was more upset by a woman daring to write to him, or by the very idea that someone could ever refuse his hand in marriage. Knowing Atobe, it was the latter.

“So,” Shishido frowned, feeling redundant, “you want me to go take them out again.”

“I _wanted_ to send an officer, but His Lordship seems to think such measures unnecessary, so I’m sending you.” Atobe was such a condescending bastard. “Assemble a team as you see fit and take care of it. You may go.”

Akutagawa grinned at him on his way out of the room. “Good luck!”

*

Honestly, Shishido didn’t see what the big deal was. Bandits, even particularly competent bandits, were still just bandits. But Shishido got his best men together anyway, figuring that overkill was never really a bad thing. It meant you were prepared. Before long, they were ready.

_“Oh, they’re leaving!”_

Shishido heard it and turned around, and Ohtori was actually there. Somehow Shishido even expected him to be there. Weird. The kid looked surprised, but smiled at him anyway. “Um, are you heading out, then?”

Shishido smiled back, because he felt like it. “Yeah, just got some bandits to kill. Shouldn’t take too long.”

Ohtori frowned a bit, looking worried. “Well, be careful.”

Shishido rolled his eyes, and the men laughed. “Oh come on, we’ll be fine.”

Ohtori looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t and smiled instead. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yeah, sure!” Shishido grinned. “See you.”

*

This was _not_ supposed to happen.

They were Hyotei. They were _elite, trained professionals_. Routing a bunch of bandits should have been child’s play.

Instead Shishido’s men lay dead all around him.

It had not been one-sided slaughter, but it may as well have. They had met the battle in roughly equal numbers. Eight of the bandits still stood. Only Shishido remained.

“Why don’t you just shoot him,” the Empowered boy was muttering.

“Tachibana-san said he wanted to fight him personally!” the archer hissed, scowling. “Eight on one isn’t fair!”

“It would be so much easier if you just shot him, though. Or I could kill him. I wouldn’t mind doing it. Tachibana-san shouldn’t have to deal with these kinds of people. They aren’t worth his time. They came here trying to kill all of us. It really bugs me. This one did kill Taro and Satoshi. I never really liked them, though. They were never very nice to me.”

“Would you shut up already?”

“Shh!” the girl cut in, nodding toward the leader, whose eyes had not once left Shishido since the melee had started. That must be Tachibana.

The man spoke. “You can leave,” he said simply. He had not yet even drawn his sword.

Shishido spat on the ground at Tachibana’s feet. His best men were dead--cut down or stuck with arrows or frozen into grotesque stone statues--brought here on Shishido’s orders. Either he left here victorious or he died here. There were no other options.

Tachibana nodded, face impassive. “I can respect that.” And he stepped forward, slowly, pulling his sword from its scabbard.

It was now or never. Shishido charged, slicing for the man’s neck--but Tachibana blocked, repelling him. He dashed forward again, aiming lower--but again Tachibana blocked. Shishido attacked and attacked, growing angrier and angrier, the blood pounding in his ears, and still Tachibana did not strike back. Shishido came so close to Tachibana’s vital organs, but every time the man only just blocked in time--a blow that should have cut off his arm only nicked his wrist; a jab to the liver glanced off his side; a cut on the cheek when he aimed to take the head.

Something was wrong. This fight was far too one-sided. Was Tachibana merely toying with him? Did he mean to make Shishido lose his focus, or wear down his stamina? Though Shishido had not yet landed a solid blow, he had drawn blood and was striking with all his might--Tachibana had to be getting tired. No man could win a fight without fighting back.

Then Shishido remembered that Tachibana was supposed to be Empowered.

And Tachibana attacked.

Shishido screamed as he felt himself split open, even though he hadn’t let Tachibana’s sword touch him. Blood poured down his face and arms. His knees buckled. He could only hope his guts were staying in. He felt dizzy. He was going to die. He was going to bleed out and die right here. He could barely stand--but he wasn’t just going to lie down. Gripping his sword tighter, even as the hilt grew slippery, he shoved Tachibana’s blade away with all his strength. He was a man, and he would die on his feet like a man, dammit!

Something whizzed past Shishido and clanged as Tachibana blocked it, looking up in alarm. This was Shishido’s chance. He should attack--but he could hardly move. Another thing came flying, and he heard the girl scream.

“An!!” Tachibana wasn’t even looking at Shishido anymore. He should strike. He should strike. But his arms were so heavy...

It had suddenly become chaos. Flying things-- _throwing stars_ \--were everywhere, raining from high in the trees on the crowd, sending the bandits scattering like chickens. The Empowered boy looked catatonic, huddled white-faced on the ground. The tallest was doing his best to shield the others. Tachibana had abandoned his fight with Shishido completely to regroup his men. The archer was taking aim.

An arrow whizzed past Shishido in the other direction, and Akutagawa Jirou fell out of the tree behind him. “Ow,” he laughed weakly--but the arrow was sticking out of his chest.

“Jirou!” Shishido found his feet at last, hacking another arrow out of the air before it reached its target. He didn’t even know Akutagawa was here. Was he going to get him killed, too?

Two of the bandits had taken the chance to move in, swords ready. Shishido snarled, charging the one nearest him--and nearly got hit by a throwing star, which sank into the bandit’s gut.

A little boy’s voice shrieked, “Tatsunori!!!”

The bandit looked shocked. He could hardly be older than Ohtori. His fellow immediately dropped all pretense of fighting to catch him, hollering over his shoulder for their leader.

Tachibana was there in a blink, half-dragging, half-carrying the kid away. “We’re pulling back,” he shouted to the others. The child was still screaming, wherever he was.

The girl grabbed Tachibana’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t we kill them first?” she asked him, gesturing toward Shishido and Akutagawa with her polearm. Shishido took a step backwards toward Akutagawa, who hadn’t gotten up since he’d fallen.

“We’re _pulling back_. Get everybody out of here.”

Shishido half expected the girl to protest--women had no sense--but she nodded and fell back, gathering the rest and marching them off into the trees.

A few moments after the last one disappeared, Akutagawa wheezed cheerfully, “Well...that’s about...half the job. ...Not so bad.”

“Are you ok?!” Shishido’s knees were about ready to give out and his head was spinning, but the adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, even as the blood kept flowing. “Shit, what are you even doing here? For the love of... _Fuck!_ ”

Akutagawa grinned, but his face was getting whiter every second. “Atobe sent me...after you...just in case. I’m ok... Just broke...my legs, I think... I’ve got a kit... You should get yourself...patched up...”

What was he even talking about? He had a fucking arrow sticking out of his chest! “Jirou, you’re gonna die.”

“Nah, I’m not...!” he laughed, wincing. “I just... really tired... _You_ need help... got a kit... seriously... ‘s right over there... Could you be nice...and pull this out? It’s really...annoying.”

Shishido’s brain wasn’t working, so he just did as he was told. “Ok, you asked for it, one, two, _three_ \--" and he yanked the arrow out of Akutagawa’s ribcage.

He made this horrible gurgling noise. Shishido didn’t care what he said--Akutagawa was going to _die_. And it was Shishido’s fault. But he was still smiling. “Thanks, man... I’ma take a nap... Just for a minute... You...bandage yourself up. Kit... kit...” He rummaged around on the ground next to him for a bag. His breath was starting to rattle. He slumped over as his hand reached the fabric and didn’t move again.

Shishido didn’t know what to do. He didn’t deserve to live after this. But someone had to explain what happened to Atobe. He’d have to kill himself later. He moved Akutagawa’s hand off the kit bag gently and set about treating his own wounds.

It was disgusting. Now that he’d calmed down, everything hurt. He had been cut almost everywhere--all the same injuries he’d given Tachibana, or nearly given him, but at least twice as grievous. He could see the bone at his wrist, after he’d cleared enough of the blood away. The slice in his cheek had nearly gone the whole way through. His innards, at least, seemed ready to stay in--he knew he’d see them soon enough, but there would be time for that later.

Shishido didn’t know how long it took him to get himself into some semblance of shape--it felt like ages--but after a while he noticed a noise. He thought at first that it was Akutagawa’s final breaths, after his lung had collapsed, but it couldn’t be. It was too even. Too sustained. Akutagawa was _snoring_.

“Oh, you have _got_ to be fucking kidding me.” Shishido kicked him with the leg that worked, because _fuck_ that.

Akutagawa groaned and rolled over. “Five more minutes.”

“No!”

“Eh?” Akutagawa looked back, and his eyes widened. “Oh crap, I forgot! D’you need any help?” And he scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off. Except for the bloodstains, he looked like nothing had even happened to him.

That was so not fair.

Shishido hissed through his teeth. “I fucking hate Empowered people.”

Akutagawa laughed. “C’mon, let’s get you back.”

~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also includes discussion of period-appropriate suicide. Medieval Japan is full of that.

The way back _sucked_.

Shishido had never been in so much pain in his entire life. He could hardly even stand by himself. It was absolutely humiliating. Shishido hated leaning on people on principle--he could take care of his own damn self!--but Akutagawa was _not_ the best person to lean on.

Shishido had to admit, Akutagawa was actually a pretty nice guy, all things considered. A little too cheerful, a little too curious, but humble enough for an officer, and petty enough that he was believable as a real person.

But every couple minutes he _fell asleep_.

It could happen at any time. They would be walking along the path--and then suddenly Shishido would fall over. Or they’d be talking and suddenly Akutagawa wouldn’t be saying anything. And then Shishido would fall over. It never lasted long, and it didn’t seem like Akutagawa could help it, but it was annoying as hell, and Shishido was glad to make it back to the manor, even though it made him that much closer to his own death.

There wasn’t anything else for it. Shishido had fucked up that assignment beyond explanation. His honor and reputation were absolutely trashed. His best men, and therefore some of Hyotei’s best men, were all dead. Suicide was the least he could do to atone for it.

Shishido had been overconfident. He knew that. But even worse, he knew that even if he had been taking it seriously from the start, it couldn’t have gone any differently. Never in his life had Shishido been so obviously _outclassed_ \--except maybe by Atobe. But Atobe was in charge of an army for a reason. Shishido knew that and accepted that. Tachibana was a just a _bandit_ \--a filthy wretch of a man who lived in the woods like a barbarian! How could such a man possibly be so strong, so dangerous? How could Shishido, the best Powerless man Hyotei had to offer, be so weak and worthless in comparison? He _should_ have died.

And so he knelt before Atobe, ignoring his pain, ready to explain his failure.

But Akutagawa spoke first. “General, our forces were overwhelmed, but Captain Shishido and his men slew many bandits and saved my life. The remaining bandits feared us and fled up the mountain. They may return, but we have peace for the time being. The mission was overall successful.”

Shishido could barely believe what he was hearing. There was no _way_ Akutagawa could make that clusterfuck actually sound like a victory. Atobe would never fall for it. Shishido wasn’t even sure he _wanted_ Atobe to fall for it.

Atobe looked Akutagawa in the eye, ignoring Shishido. “How many bandits are still alive?”

“Eight, sir, but one was injured and probably will not survive.”

“Was Tachibana among the living?”

“Yes, sir.”

The General frowned, like he was considering it. “Very well. Get Shishido to the infirmary.”

This was too much. Shishido did not deserve to get away with this. He _had_ to take responsibility. “Sir!”

The General turned to Shishido for the first time and raised an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

Just then, Shishido noticed that Akutagawa was giving him a look, like _don’t fuck this up_. Shishido’s resolve faltered. “No, sir,” he muttered, looking at the floor.

Atobe smirked. “Then you may go.”

*

He rounded on Akutagawa (as best he could, considering the guy was keeping him from falling down) as soon as they were out of the General’s earshot. “What the hell were you doing back there!?”

Akutagawa actually laughed. “Saving your ass!”

“You _lied_ to _Atobe_!” If Shishido wasn’t so upset, he would have been seriously impressed.

“I didn’t _lie_ ,” Akutagawa shrugged, hoicking Shishido further up on his shoulder, “I just worded it nice.”

“But I never saved your life!”

“Sure you did! That kid was gonna shoot me again, and then, like, _BAM!_ you were right there!”

He wasn’t _getting_ it. Shishido sighed through his nose, trying to find patience. “You can _heal_. It didn’t end up mattering.”

“C’mon, I can’t heal that fast! Broken legs, arrow flying at my throat, and you just sliced it right out of the air, _whachaaa!_ That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen! Well, maybe not as cool as the time I got to see Marui Bunta fighting, but still really freaking cool.” Akutagawa smiled at him encouragingly. “Really heroic. You’re a good guy, and Hyotei needs men like you.”

The praise didn’t make Shishido feel any better. He _knew_ what he deserved, and it wasn’t this. Even if Atobe wasn’t going to give the order, Shishido couldn’t-- _shouldn’t_ \--live with this kind of shame. “I should still kill myself, though.”

Akutagawa sighed. They were right in front of the infirmary door. “Well, you can if you want to,” he said, though he sounded disappointed, “but let me just tell you, your death isn’t going to help anybody.” Shishido must have looked as confused as he felt, because he went on, “You can’t get any stronger if you’re dead.”

Shishido thought about it. Living after a failure like that felt like cheating. It wasn’t what men like him were supposed to do. Or, at least, not what the kind of man Shishido had always tried to be would do. Shishido was born a dirty peasant, and people made sure he knew it. But he had done so well for himself up until now. People had trusted him, looked up to him, respected him for the first time in his life. Could he just give that up? “That’s not very honorable.”

Akutagawa shrugged. “Neither is hiding and stabbing people in the back, but that’s my job. My folks always told me that life was for doing what you’re good at, and not caring what people think about it.” And he slid open the infirmary door, handed Shishido off to a nurse, and turned to go.

Shishido called after him, “Thanks, Jirou.”

He grinned back. “What’re friends for?”

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I've got so far--I'll keep writing, though it's very difficult for me to keep any kind of schedule for it. We'll see where this goes.


	5. Chapter 5

Ohtori came.

Most people had given Shishido up for dead, or at least as good as dead. Even Gakuto had only checked on Shishido in the infirmary the one time, not staying long once he’d realized that Shishido wasn’t about to die any time soon. Shishido couldn’t blame him, really. He had expected that kind of reaction, though that didn’t make it much easier to stomach. Jirou stopped by a couple times, though he usually ended up sleeping through the whole visit. But most people didn’t want to associate with Shishido now that he’d proven himself a dishonorable cowardly bastard, and he understood and respected that. He hadn’t been demoted, nor even punished at all, but he’d lost the moral high ground. No one wanted anything to do with a man who’d been defeated by a bunch of low-life bandits and didn’t even have the decency to kill himself afterward.

Except Ohtori.

When he’d turned up, Shishido had expected it would be a lot like Gakuto’s visit. Ohtori would ask what had happened to hear it for himself, offer the sort of goodbyes you only told a person when you never expected to see him again, and make some awkward excuse to leave. Ohtori would probably be a lot more polite about it than Gakuto was, since Ohtori obviously wasn’t brought up in a barn, but Shishido didn’t figure the content of the conversation would be much different.

So when Ohtori sat by Shishido’s sickbed, fiddling with those beads around his neck, Shishido was surprised that the first words out of his mouth were, “Jirou-senpai said that you saved his life.”

What was he supposed to say to that? “Er, I guess, yeah.”

“I just, I realized, I never thanked you,” Ohtori continued, turning pink and tugging on his beads some more. “For saving _my_ life. You’ve done it a couple times now.”

If Shishido had been confused earlier, it was nothing to now. “When did _that_ happen?” he blurted out, noticing only after he’d said it how rude it must sound, and even then not caring much.

Ohtori looked startled, probably by Shishido’s tone, but held firm and looked him in the eye. “When we first met, and we were sent out to deal with the Kakinoki incursion. I slipped, and that man would have impaled me if you hadn’t stuck him first.”

Shishido remembered that. He hadn’t thought it was a very big deal, really. Ohtori had gotten back up and killed his fair share of the targets, so Shishido figured it was square. “That was—“

“And then again, when we were ambushed in Gyokurin territory and got split up. I was losing, but you turned his attention toward you instead.”

These people—Ohtori and Jirou both, apparently—must not share Shishido’s definition of ‘life saving.’ Only helpless people got their lives saved—women and children and that kind of thing. And lifesavers were jackasses who got off on weak people owing them, or else pious bastards trying to earn themselves some good karma. There was a world of difference between saving a guy’s life and keeping a guy from getting killed. One was a power trip—the other was common decency. Wasn’t it? Shishido tried not to grimace, since that might reopen the cut on his face, but he sighed and tried to be patient about it. “Look, I was just doing my job, ok?”

Ohtori just looked back at him, smiling politely. “I know. But I wanted to thank you anyway.”

Shishido had figured that would be the last he’d see of him, but Ohtori came back only a few days later with news—Atobe had sent three officers to finish off the rest of the Fudoumine bandits.

“The General finally talked His Lordship into sending a commissioned man? That must make him feel better,” Shishido snorted, remembering when Atobe had sent him. There was nothing like an ‘I told you so’ for a man’s ego, not that the General’s needed it.

“Well, yes,” Ohtori conceded, but he frowned, biting his lip, “except that we got a messenger today. Apparently—apparently all three of them were killed.”

“Wh- _what_? Who…?”

“Sato-senpai, Takagi-senpai, and Miura-san.” Ohtori didn’t look Shishido in the eye. “I know Miura-san was your student. I’m sorry.”

Shishido didn’t really care about Miura—he’d lost students before, and he’d figured the idiot would get himself killed eventually—but three officers in one go was unheard of. Atobe must be _furious_. “What now, then?”

“Um,” Ohtori frowned. “We got their bodies back, I think there’s going to be a funeral—“

“No, I mean the bandits.” Shishido did _not_ have time for funerals. They wouldn’t change the fact that the problem was still out there. “What’s the plan to get rid of them now? The General doesn’t have many other options, short of taking the whole army up there himself.”

“Oh!” the kid squeaked with a twitch, chewing harder on that lip. “Um, I don’t know. I guess—I guess they’re just going to leave them alone for a while.”

Shishido watched him and frowned. The gesture hurt his face, but he ignored that. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” Ohtori answered a little too quickly, looking up at Shishido and quickly looking away again. “I mean, I didn’t know any of them very well, I just…”

Shishido sighed. It was easy to forget, talking to him, just how young Ohtori was. “This is an army, kid. People die.”

“I know that!” Ohtori snapped, almost glaring for a second there before shaking his head and standing up. “Never mind. I just thought you ought to know.” And he walked right out of the infirmary.

But he kept coming back. Every few days, for the whole time Shishido was laid up in bed, Ohtori came by to talk to him. Sometimes he brought news; sometimes he was only there to chat. He never stayed for very long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes at a time. But he never stopped coming back.

“Don’t you have a job to do or something?” Shishido asked him one time, not long after they’d changed his bandages and slathered on new stinging medicine, so he was grouchier than he’d meant to be.

“Well, yes,” Ohtori answered fairly, “but operations are mostly on hold while the General plans our next move. He’s been very busy lately.” (Shishido’s insanity offered an extra comment, _“I honestly have nothing better to do right now.”_ Shishido ignored it as always.) “I just thought it would be nice to come see you,” Ohtori finished, shrugging.

“Huh. Here I would have thought they’d need you more, considering we’ve still got an officer shortage.”

“That’s actually part of the problem.” Ohtori frowned guiltily.

Shishido raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” the kid explained, pulling his beads, “they don’t trust me to work by myself, and there aren’t any officers they can spare to send out with me. So I guess I’ve been put on the shelf for the time being.”

“You? Are you fucking kidding me?” Shishido gawked at him.

“Umm, no?” Ohtori blinked at him, confused.

“But your power is so cool! What the hell are they thinking?” For some reason, this legitimately pissed Shishido off. Ohtori had _talent_ —Shishido had seen it himself—and if Atobe couldn’t see it, he was fucking _blind_. And Ohtori was definitely a better fighter than Gakuto, and Gakuto still had a job.

“But Shishido-san, you know me! I can’t aim to save my life!” Ohtori stared right back at him, frowning, cheeks getting pink. “They said that without the proper supervision, I could kill somebody, and until they’ve sorted things out I have to wait!”

It was Shishido’s turn to blink in confusion. “They let you work with me, though.”

“Well, the General trusted you.”

Shishido didn’t know what to make of that. It was the second time he’d heard it, sure, but that didn’t mean he was going to believe it. So instead he just huffed, shifted on his bed as best he could, and scowled. “I still say it’s a waste of talent, benching you.”

“Thanks.” Ohtori smiled at him.

And Shishido got an idea.

It probably wasn’t a good idea. Hell, it might even be a suicidal idea. But it got stuck in Shishido’s head, and it wasn’t going away.

He healed up quickly enough, all things considered. Even if he hated it, it was probably a good thing that they locked him in the infirmary for so long—he definitely would have reopened something if they’d left him on his own. But the day came when they let him out, and he knew _exactly_ what he needed to do.

*

“Hey, Ohtori.”

“Shishido-san!” The kid grinned at him, full and bright. “It’s so good to see you back on your feet!”

Shishido let himself smile back—it was too hard not to—but he wouldn’t let himself get distracted. “I have a proposition for you.”

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah for random spurts of productivity! This fic will be finished some day, come hell or high water.


	6. Chapter 6

“Sparring partners?” Ohtori repeated as though he hadn’t heard properly. “With _me_?”

“Yeah. What do you say?”

Ohtori’s face fell. “But I’d _fry_ you.”

Shishido snorted. “No you wouldn’t.”

“I could, though!”

“Yeah right,” Shishido scoffed, pressing on while he had an opening. “It would work. You’re not busy. I’m not busy. You need to work on your aim. I need to learn how to fight Empowered people if I ever want to make up for…” He cut himself off and shrugged. “You know. It works to both our advantage.”

“I don’t know…” Ohtori trailed off, breaking eye contact and chewing on his lip again.

“Well, think about it,” Shishido told him, turning to leave.

He knew it would work, though. He didn’t even have to look at Ohtori’s face to know it would work. And it would only work with Ohtori. That kid was bored out of his mind. He had had no assignments for over a month—he could hardly have had any more to do all this time than Shishido had, even if he was perfectly healthy. He was ready to do nearly anything by this point— _and_ he was willing to work with Shishido, probably the only person left who would. There was Jirou, but Jirou didn’t fight the right way to make practicing with him very helpful. And even if Gakuto was willing to talk to him, which he wasn’t right now, Shishido could kick Gakuto’s ass, so that was no good either. It had to be Ohtori. And it was going to be Ohtori.

“Okay!” Ohtori called after him before Shishido had walked even twenty paces. “Okay, fine, I’ll do it!”

Shishido turned and grinned back over his shoulder. “See you this evening, then?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you then.” Ohtori nodded. _“If he wasn’t so pretty, there is no way I would be agreeing to this.”_

*

“I’m not using my Power on you,” was the first thing Ohtori said that evening.

Shishido tried really hard not to roll his eyes and pout like a kid, he really did. “Oh, come on!”

“No! They only barely put your guts back in!”

“I can take it!”

“I don’t care,” Ohtori said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m not doing it. Not today, anyway.”

Shishido scowled at him, but Ohtori apparently wasn’t going to budge. The kid was more stubborn than Shishido gave him credit. “Tch, fine.” Shishido backed off and took a bokuto down from the stand, swinging it around to test its weight. “Starting next week, though, you’re going to start shooting at me.”

Ohtori’s shoulders sagged slightly as he turned to get a bokuto of his own. _“Why did I agree to this, again?”_

“It’s good for you!” Shishido insisted, feeling the familiar slip into drill-sergeant mode. This was as much for Ohtori’s training as Shishido’s own. “Get yourself ready!”

Ohtori was already in a fighting stance when Shishido looked over. Good.

Shishido came at him fast. It was always a skill of his, speed. It put his enemies on the defensive and kept them there. Ohtori was good, but he was inexperienced—it always took him a few seconds to realize what his opponent was doing, so that he could barely block in time. That was the first thing he should work on.

It felt so good, to be moving again. To be moving, to be fighting, to be running. The infirmary had felt like a lifetime in hell—this, _this_ , was living.

But Shishido was slowing down. His arms were getting heavy, aching just from the effort of lifting the bokuto, and bokutos didn’t weigh much. His back muscles felt wrung out, like a wet cloth. Ohtori was gaining the upper hand easily. A particular move made Shishido’s side twinge, and he shuddered—and that moment’s hesitation let Ohtori bash Shishido with his shoulder and knock him down.

Ohtori took a step back. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this. You’re not well yet.”

“No! I can do this!”

“You’re going to kill yourself.”

“If I was gonna do that, I’d have done it already,” Shishido spat. He didn’t need this kid telling him what he could or couldn’t do! “C’mon. One more round.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes!”

“It’s just that I could beat you really easily right now.”

“Come on and try, then!”

Though apparently Ohtori _could_ beat him really easily just then. And did. Rather quickly. It wasn’t pretty.

Weirdly enough, it felt good. Shishido was at the bottom of the pile now—he had to _work_ his way back up. It couldn’t be easy, or it would defeat the point. He had to lose, and lose, and keep losing if he wanted to win. He _would_ claim his rightful place, whatever he had to do to get there. That would show them.

“That was good. Thanks,” Shishido huffed, breathing slowly, in through his nose and out through his mouth to get as much air as he could.

_“That was terrible, are you kidding?”_ Shishido heard, but Ohtori just smiled politely at him, bowed, and said “Thank you.”

“Thursday?” Shishido should be in shape by Thursday. He should be _better_ by Thursday.

“Thursday would be fine.”

This would work.

*

Shishido took it back. This was a terrible idea.

He woke up in the morning almost entirely unable to move. He could barely roll himself off the mat. Every single muscle in his body felt as though it wanted to murder him.

He heard someone else say, _“Oww… Why don’t I take care of myself like I’m supposed to? I should have been exercising…”_

Great. He ached all over, _and_ his insanity was acting up again. Though, in this case, he was inclined to agree—nothing was quite so bad as getting back to work after convalescing. The human body was a really stupid machine.

Shishido ran into Jirou later that day. Jirou grinned. “So how’re you today?”

“I feel like I got run over by a horse.”

Jirou laughed. “Gakuto owes me money!”

“Why?”

“I bet him that you’d completely wreck yourself on your first day out of the infirmary.”

Shishido scowled. “Some friend you are! What’d he say?”

Jirou shrugged. “He bet me that after losing a fight like that you wouldn’t care enough to try so hard anymore.”

“Fuck him!”

“I know, right? If you were gonna give up, you’d’ve just killed yourself in the first place.”

“Seriously.” Did Gakuto really think that little of him now? Shishido knew he shouldn’t get hung up on it, but they _had_ been friends.

“Don’t get too mad at Gakuto, though,” Jirou added like he knew. “He’s been in a really bad mood lately because he and Oshitari just broke up. He’s taking it out on everybody.”

“Really?” The last Shishido heard, Gakuto had been all over that. Shishido didn’t give a fuck, but it had sounded like Gakuto really meant it, and Gakuto wasn’t a ‘feelings’ sort of person. “That douche.”

“I know the guy, and he is,” Jirou agreed, nodding slightly, “but he’s not _bad_. He doesn’t drown puppies or eat garlic or anything. Maybe they can work it out.”

“I don’t like it. Why would Gakuto _want_ to get back together with that?”

“He _is_ pretty.”

Shishido snorted.

“And you have to admit, Gakuto’s a bit of a bitch himself. He’s my best friend, but he’s a bit of a bitch.”

As were they all, Shishido included. “…Good point.”

“So where’re you headed?”

“I’m gonna train up some more.”

“Seriously? Take a break, man.”

“No time. See you, Jirou.”

No pain, no gain.

~


End file.
